


Under Pressure

by harveydent



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: AU, Airplanes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-09 23:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18648697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harveydent/pseuds/harveydent
Summary: airplane!nygmob au inspired by the following prompts:‘You fell asleep and I started making funny faces at your kid to keep them amused and the steward mistook us for a couple’‘I’m afraid of flying and you were incredibly helpful and tolerant and sweet about it’





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!  
> I spent a couple hours this weekend at an airport and airplane so this quick fic was born. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Ed Nygma had never enjoyed flying. For an already anxious man, the concept of getting locked in a pressurized container and getting shot into the sky was almost too much to handle. 

 

But he'd had urgent business in Metropolis, which required the fastest mode of transport available, there and back. And thus here he was scanning his boarding pass to be let onto what Ed was almost certain would be the machination of his demise. 

 

Past the boarding gate was a long ramp leading to the plane proper. There was a small line of people waiting to board, so Ed had to wait halfway down. The covered ramp didn’t seal completely against the aircraft so the Gotham chill still crept in. Ed regretted leaving his jacket at home. 

 

He pulled out his small tape deck and put his earphones in. Classical music took over the loud screams of the jet engines warming up and the murmur of disgruntled passengers. 

 

This obliviousness to his surroundings meant that Ed almost fell over as a man pushed past him swiftly. He caught himself on the railing and glared after the stranger. 

 

A small boy hurried after the man, looking extremely apologetic. He grimaced at Ed before following after the shorter man. 

 

Ed clenched his fists before exhaling shakily. _At least I’ll never have to see him again…_ he thought. 

 

But luck was not on his side. As he stepped onto the plane, his ticket led him straight to the angry man and small boy. 

 

Finally getting a good look at him, Ed had to admit that the man was _fascinating_. He had spiky black hair that seemed to give the middle finger to gravity and go where it pleased. His nose seemed pointed, akin to a beak, which seemed to be a theme because the man also held a cane with a bird’s head as the handle. His purple suit was immaculate, screaming wealth and luxury. 

 

No one was supposed to look this good at an airport. 

 

Ed looked down at his own rumpled khakis and sweater before sighing. He couldn’t even hope to compare to this… being. 

 

It seemed that Ed had been staring for too long as the stylish man glared up at him suddenly. “Is there anything you need?”

 

His voice was like velvet, but held a dangerous cadence. Ed swallowed.

 

“My seat.” He pointed at the empty chair in between the window and the child. 

 

There was a heavy pause. People behind Ed started to complain loudly about the holdup. 

 

The man seemed to chew on the inside of his cheek before struggling to stand up. The boy helped him before climbing out into the aisle to give Ed room to sit down. He thanked both of them and slid in easily. One of the few benefits of being so skinny, he thought ruefully. 

 

The boy plopped back down next to Ed before scribbling on a notepad attached to his neck. 

 

Ed had been leafing through all the safety instruction manuals in the pocket in front of him before he felt a slight tapping on his arm. He turned. 

 

The small, curly haired boy was holding up his notepad and pointing to it. 

 

‘ _My name is Martin. Whats yours?’_

Ed looked over at the boys’ father who seemed to be going through some e-mails on his phone. 

 

“My name is Ed. What a lovely name, Martin.” He smiled down at the boy, but heard a huff from the other chair. 

 

“It’s pronounced Mar-teen. Get it right if you want to speak to my son.” 

 

Martin glared at his father before scribbling another note for Ed. 

 

_‘Don’t mind him, he hates airplanes.’_

The child was quickly earning a soft spot in Ed’s heart. He seemed so concerned about keeping the peace between the two adults. He must be used to it, with such a cold father. 

 

“Thank you, Martin.” Ed made sure to pronounce the name right, his gaze flicking to the father. No response. “I also am not a fan of air planes.”

 

Martin gave him a pitying look.  _’They’re not all that bad. I’ll help you through the takeoff, if you’d like?’_

Ed chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “I would appreciate that very much. You seem to know an awful lot about flying.”

 

_‘Oh yes! I used to fly around the country a lot, before Oswald adopted me.’_ Martin grinned at his father before turning back to Ed.  _‘I want to be a pilot when I grow up.’_

Ed took a mental note of the name. Oswald. Seemed fitting. “How interesting. Have you read any books about flying?”

 

Martin shook his head. 

 

“You should! I love books, they’ve taught me practically everything I know.” 

 

Ed pulled out the book he’d been reading, a study of how lifelong diets affected the decomposition of dead bodies. He was suddenly thankful that the cover didn’t have an image. But there were diagrams inside, so he only briefly flipped through some pages. 

 

The boy seemed excited, grabbing for the book before Ed could stop him.

 

Martin browsed slowly, inspecting each page he came across. A few rather… unpleasant pictures passed but the child didn’t seem disgusted. In fact he seemed intrigued. 

 

Ed looked nervously at the other man, but he seemed to have closed his eyes. His head was leant back, his sharp nose on full display. At least he wasn’t glaring at them any more.  

 

Before Ed could explain some of the concepts, the lights switched off and the pilot came over the intercom to announce their departure. 

 

The effect was immediate. Ed’s spine tensed, sitting him upright. His fingers curled around the armrests so tightly that his knuckles were white. 

 

Before he could start panicking he was distracted by a green foil dancing in his face. Ed focused on it. Martin was waving a stick of gum before him, offering it enthusiastically. 

 

As Ed grabbed it, Martin started scribbling on his page again.  _‘Chew it. It helps with the depressurization. Pops your ears.’_

Only now did Ed realize both the boy and his father were chewing gum. He grinned, impressed. Martin smiled back as Ed stuck the piece in his mouth. 

 

_‘Do you have any music to listen to?’_ The boy was eyeing Ed’s tape player which was clipped to his belt.  _‘You should listen to it when we take off. The engines get really loud. It’ll help.’_

Ed couldn’t believe this kid was being so nice to him, guiding him through his anxiety. Usually he would be offended by someone assuming they knew more than him, but for some reason Martin’s genuine concern allowed Ed to ignore his pride. 

 

He followed what Martin said, starting his tape up again. He raised the volume until the roar of the jet engines were just a low hum in the background. Ed paced his breathing to the upbeat tempo of Haydn’s String Quartet No. 64 in D Major.  He tapped his feat in time. One breath per six beats. In. Out. 

 

Looking over at Martin found the boy holding hands with his father. The man seemed asleep, but he was still gripping his son’s hand tensely. 

 

Martin seemed to notice him looking so he reached over and grabbed Ed’s hand as well. The boy squeezed it, causing Ed to smile. 

 

Since he had the window seat, Ed peered out to watch the plane line up with the dull blue lights along the runway. It took a few minutes for the plane to navigate the maze as it maneuvered to the long takeoff lane.

 

Suddenly the plane jolted forward, and the sound of air roaring past the window broke through the concerto in Ed’s ear and he yelped. The aircraft was racing down and Ed couldn’t help but calculate how much of the runway was left. 

 

A squeeze on his hand whipped his head around, and Martin was staring at him. Both his hands were being held so he couldn’t write anything but the boy’s face seemed to say ‘ _it’ll be okay. I promise.’_

When Ed turned back towards the window, the ground was miles below them and the city was already shrinking in the distance. 

 

He’d survived the takeoff.


	2. Chapter 2

Martin let go of both men’s hands to clap excitedly. He was grinning from ear to ear and shook Ed’s shoulder before pulling out his notepad. 

 

‘You did it!!’ 

 

Below the words was a small drawing of the three of them holding hands while standing on an airplane.

 

Ed’s heart twinged. He couldn’t believe how much this child had endeared himself to him in the thirty minutes they’d spent together. He’d known this child for less than an hour but if anything happened to him he’d kill everyone on the plane and then himself.

 

The ‘keep seatbelt fastened’ light pinged and then turned off. The pilot came back on over the speaker to talk about the projected flight length and turbulence level. There was a minor storm system before they reached Metropolis, which made Ed’s blood run cold. 

 

But he schooled his features, trying not to upset the boy. He’d already been a pain. What his father would’ve said if he’d know that Ed had resorted to comfort from a child when he was almost thirty. 

 

Martin seemed bored as the flight went on, so Ed let him read his book. The boy hadn’t seemed grossed out by the morbid topic so he saw no harm in letting Martin borrow it. Ed also let him listen to his tape, since he’d been such a big help during the departure. 

 

The cabin was dark, only illuminated by the sunset through the plane windows and a sporadic collection of lights that passengers had turned on. Outside, the wind and turbines were a dull roar. White noise. 

 

Oswald suddenly sat up, startling Ed. The man’s eyes were fixed on the drink cart making its way down the aisle.

 

“Finally.” He muttered, massaging his right leg that was sticking out into the aisle. Oswald pulled it back to let the cart pass through cleanly. “One Merlot, if you would.”

 

The stewardess smiled and poured out the glass of deep red wine. She said something about paying for it later in the flight and Oswald waved his hand. She turned to Ed. 

 

“Anything for you, sir?”

 

Ed ordered a ginger ale to help soothe his stomach. He glanced down at Martin and ordered a cup of water as well. Oswald’s eyebrow quirked.

 

With the two drinks in hand, Ed set one down on his tray and handed the other to the boy. Martin glanced up, flashed his bright smile and then dove back into his book, cupping the water with both hands. 

 

The stewardess smiled at them and then tottered off to the next row.

 

“You know I can take care of my own kid.” Oswald was staring at Ed in an accusatory fashion. He was studying the taller man, trying to figure him out. 

 

“I assumed.” Ed said. “He’s a very nice boy. I’m rather inexperienced with flying so he helped me through the takeoff.”

 

Oswald looked thoughtful and then looked down at his son. His features softened and he almost looked like a completely different person. It was obvious to anyone that he loved his son immensely.

 

“Yes, he is a nice boy, isn’t he?” It wasn’t really a question. They both knew the answer. 

 

Martin turned a page and a picture of an eviscerated man stared up at them. Martin didn’t react, his eyes scanning the words on the opposite page. Ed glanced nervously at Oswald, expecting the usual response. 

 

‘Why do you read books like this?’ ’Thats disgusting, Ed!’ ‘What a freak.’

 

But none came. Oswald seemed intrigued, then angled his head to read the cover. 

 

“A Lifestyle of Decomposition, huh?” He whistled and then took a sip of his wine. “Seems like a good read.”

 

Ed’s mouth hung open. “You aren’t freaked out?”

 

Oswald scoffed. “Do you want me to be?”

 

Ed shook his head swiftly and Oswald chuckled. It was a beautiful sound and Ed was determined to hear it as many times as he could before they landed. 

 

There was an easy silence as Oswald sipped his wine. Ed had nothing to do since he’d given his book to Martin. The only other things in his messenger bag were the clothes he’d grabbed on his way out of his apartment and an empty water bottle that the security guard had forced him to dump out before boarding.

 

Someone in the back of the cabin started to watch a movie without headphones and Oswald grumbled about flying coach. 

 

“Do you usually fly first class?” The question had left Ed’s mouth before he had even processed it.

 

“When I can.” Oswald seemed annoyed again as if he had just remembered where he was. “But I booked this flight quickly and the first class seats were all sold out.”

 

Ed hummed, trying to imagine what it would be like to fly up front. More leg room, pillows, a blanket. But his forensics salary didn’t have room for that kind of opulance. “Shame.”

 

“Do you usually fly coach?” The dark haired man returned. It almost sounded like an insult but Ed brushed it off. 

 

“I don’t usually fly at all. This is my first flight ever.” 

 

Oswald nodded. “Nasty things, airplanes. If I could go the rest of my life without taking them I would.”

 

The sound of gunfire filled the cabin as the movie in the back reached an action scene. Oswald raised his hands as if to say ’see what I mean?’ 

 

Ed smiled widely. He was enjoying talking to this man who just seemed to grow more fascinating by the minute. 

 

“Well Martin definitely made it more enjoyable. I think this is the best flight I’ve ever had.” Ed said.

 

“Not a lot of competition.” Oswald muttered and stretched his leg out again. “But yes, he makes everything more enjoyable. I’m lucky to have him.”

 

Ed was distracted by the man’s profile. He looked even more avian as he stared down. His hair was getting ruffled by constantly getting pressed against the seat. And finally, finally, his shirt was starting to wrinkle. He was no longer intimidating. He was a tired man with an overly enthusiastic child to look after. A man who didn’t find him weird. 

 

“You’re making this enjoyable too.” Ed hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until Oswald turned to look at him strangely. “I mean-“

 

“No, it’s fine. I’m enjoying talking to you too.” Oswald rubbed his leg gently. “I don’t usually talk to people who don’t work for me.”

 

There was an awkward silence as Ed silently yelled at himself for being so stupid. People don’t usually talk like that. It was an abrupt change of subject. Stupid. Stupid!

 

Oswald finished his drink. He seemed bored, scanning through the meager reading material that every flight had available. Diagrams of where to go in the case of different scenarios. 

 

He chuckled as he stared at the small distressed drawings. “One would think if the plane crashed into the sea there wouldn’t be anyone to deploy the life rafts.”

 

Ed didn’t respond until Oswald turned to him. “Don’t you think?”

 

“At the speed this aircraft would fall, crashing into water would be like falling onto a large sheet of concrete.” Ed muttered. He glanced up at Oswald. “Minimal survivors, if that.”

 

The man seemed impressed and looked back at the pamphlet. “Good to know. I’ll add crashing a plane into the river to my list of murder methods.”

 

There was a slight inflection that almost sounded like Oswald was joking, but his thoughtful expression told Ed he was being serious. He should’ve been scared, but he wasn’t. 

 

It seemed his new friend had a taste for the morbid as well. 

 

“What are some of your favorites?”

 

Oswald looked up. His eyes flicked to Martin before looking back at Ed. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“Y-you said your list.” Ed stammered. “That implies you have multiple options. I was asking for your favorite method.”

 

There was a beat of silence before Oswald readjusted himself. “You know, I’m starting to think we might have a lot in common, mister…?”

 

“Nygma. Ed Nygma.” Ed thrust out his hand, being careful not to disturb Martin. A purple gloved hand stretched out and they shook hands. 

 

“I’m Oswald Cobblepot. But you already knew my first name. Most don’t.”

 

“What do they call you, then?”

 

The man seemed to bristle. “I have a professional name but we don’t have to get into it. Nasty business.”

 

“I’m fine with nasty things.” Ed’s face flushed red as he realized what he’d just said. 

 

Luckily Oswald pretended not to hear and was fixing his tie. The only tell that he’d understood was the pink tinge to his cheeks. Or maybe that was just the wine. 

 

Ed spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how to open one of the emergency doors and jump out of the plane. The only issue was how to keep Martin safe…

 

“Stabbing.” 

 

Ed’s head whipped over to stare at the man. He seemed thoughtful and was playing with the cane in his hands. He looked up. “You asked for my favorite murder method. It’s very effective.”

 

They stared at each other and suddenly the cabin felt _very_ warm. Ed could only manage a strangled “O-oh.”

 

He’d had plenty of experience with knives. Med school had contained a lot of dissections. Some in class and some Ed did… outside of school. He had a favorite switchblade at home that he’d used to-

 

“Do you have any experience with this sort of thing?” Oswald hadn’t broken eye contact. His green eyes were mesmerizing. They’d suddenly become Ed’s favorite color. They said to trust the man in front of him with his biggest secret.

 

“I killed my parents.”

 

There. No one else knew about this. It was the first time Ed had ever said it aloud. 

 

Oswald whistled, suddenly impressed. He didn’t recoil, in fact he leaned further towards Ed. 

 

Martin was slumped over the book, seemingly asleep. His back rising and falling slowly with his deep breaths. 

 

“It seems I’ve underestimated you, Ed Nygma.” Oswald’s voice was low and Ed suddenly realized how close their faces had gotten. There were only a few inches between them if only he could lean forward and-

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

Both men jumped away from each other. A stewardess was standing next to Oswald and was clutching a red blanket. “I saw your son fall asleep and was wondering if he wanted a blanket?”

 

Oswald’s face was the same color of the fabric. He grabbed the blanket angrily. 

 

“Yes, thank you.” Ed added quickly to cover up for the man’s rudeness. Although he was pretty sure he knew why Oswald was so embarrassed.

 

Ed had never considered himself attractive or very outgoing. But for some reason with Oswald… things were different. He felt like he’d known him for much longer than an hour and a half. The word soulmate bounced around his head. 

 

The stewardess didn’t seem offended though. If anything her smile got wider. “So how long have you two been together?”

 

Oswald squawked and Ed froze. He’d been carefully placing the blanket over the sleeping boy. Martin remained oblivious.

 

“Uhh…” Ed’s mind returned to the emergency exit. He was sure he could make it there in 20 seconds and be free falling in 30. 

 

“Not very long.” Oswald supplied, looking anywhere but at Ed. The stewardess seemed to accept this answer and sighed. 

 

“Well you guys look cute together. Your son is very lucky to have you.” She smiled again and then puttered off down the aisle. 

 

For about fifteen seconds it was dead silent. Then-

 

“If Martin weren’t here she would’nt be alive right now.” Fury looked good on Oswald. 

 

Ed felt his mouth get dry. “How would you have done it?”

 

Oswald casually glanced over, making eye contact with Ed. The empty wine glass danced between his fingers. “Most underestimate how sharp glass can get.”

 

The idea of Oswald killing a stranger just for daring to interrupt them… suddenly Ed wished the drink cart would come back. He needed some water. Ed swallowed dryly.

 

“Too bad she interrupted us,” Oswald mused. He licked his lips. “I had something I wanted to discuss.” 

 

Ed checked his watch before glancing out the window. The sky was pitch black. “Well we do have another hour left before we land.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

The movie in the back of the cabin was playing an orchestral, romantic song. Ed suddenly didn’t hate whoever had forgotten their headphones. 

 

Their lips crashed together and Ed’s mind exploded. 

 

He forgot his fear of flying. 

 

He forgot how everyone back home treated him like a nobody. 

 

He forgot his parents and all of his traumas.

 

For the rest of the flight, there was only Oswald.

 

Perhaps flying wasn’t _that_ bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh!   
> So that was the second and last chapter. I just had to finish it up, check spelling errors and all that jazz.   
> I typed up most of this while on a plane and let me tell you, it is incredibly awkward writing air plane fan fiction with some guy watching you the whole time. Sorry to you, random man. I hope he liked the preview lmao  
> thank you to everyone for reading and your kind words!!

**Author's Note:**

> It was getting really long, so the next chapter will have the actual nygmobs interactions. 
> 
> I just love Martin and feel like he balances ed's anxiety and os' anger very well


End file.
